The deepest parts of me
by Mimosa143
Summary: You fucking hate fate because if fate existed then she would be here with you right now, because you know-in the deepest parts of you that she's your soul mate.
1. Chapter 1

_November 20, 2016_

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's now or never Q" Santana says as she grips the letter in her hands a little tighter, "I need you to give this to her because if her I get near her" she shakes her head trying to stop the tears from forming, "—Just _please _Quinn. Give this to Brittany"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight we make history! I want to thank each and every one of you or your support and donations throughout the years to help us get to the presidential elections. This time tomorrow, we could be in looking at the next president of the United States of America!" The whole ballroom erupts in cheers, "And now it is my pleasure to introduce the California Senator and presidential candidate Samuel Evans and his fiancee Brittany S. Pierce for a very special dance because tomorrow morning not only _will _Samuel Evans become our 45th president but tomorrow ladies and gentlemen, we are celebrating the joining of these two individuals in eternal love and marriage" Santana's eyes snap towards the entrance where she watches the door open and Evans come out wearing an immaculate black tuxedo with a smile that can be seen from outer space. He waves and shakes hands as he makes his way towards the center of the ballroom but stops mid-way and turns back to the door and reaches his hand out.

Santana's breath hitches at the sight because she will never get over the flutter that erupts in her stomach every time she sees _her. _

Brittany's dressed like an angel, or that's how Santana sees it the minute she sees the blonde walk in in a long white dress and her hair curled loosely and hanging over her right shoulder. Santana watches—no gazes as the blonde fumbles with her hands before taking a deep breath and stepping towards the roaring crowd immediately plastering on a smile Santana knows very well is faked.

It isn't until cerulean orbs land on her that she sees the breath Brittany was holding dissipate and a small—real smile graze thin pink lips.

"And now Mr. Evans and Ms. Pierce if you could please join us while our very own head of affairs Santana Lopez sings to the soon to be married couple." Santana

"Santana—" Quinn says reaching out to grab Santana's arm as she turns to walk on stage.

" Just make sure she gets the letter once the song ends" Santana repeats pleadingly as she picks up the tail of her navy gown as she makes her way to the stage where, Roger, the head of the Evans campaign and the man holding the microphone waits.

Santana smiles at him and tries her hardest not to falter at the burning in the back of her head where she knows Brittany's eyes are trained on. She tries to smile but it only reaches half-way as Roger hands over the microphone and whispers a "good luck".

She turns to the crowd and thanks whoever is in charge of lighting that everything around her dims so she has a few seconds to collect herself before her eyes involuntarily finding _her _again. "This one's for the _happy _couple" she whispers into the microphone and takes a quick glance to Quinn and tries to ignore how her best friend stares at her as is Santana is about to break at any moment. She shrugs one shoulder as if to tell her best friend she's okay even though they both know she's far from that.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath praying that for the next couple of minutes she can stay strong.

_When the rain is blowing in your face_

_and the whole world is on your case_

She opens her eyes and watches how the crowd forms a circle—with Sam and Brittany in the middle. Sam smiles and reaches for Brittany's hand and pulls her close. He wraps his arms around her tiny waist and Santana has to fight everything in her not to stop the song and rip his hands away. She tries to hide the quiver in her voice but she thinks—no she _knows_ that Brittany has caught it. Her eyes flicker around the crowd because even though she knows Brittany is looking at her she can't bring herself to look back.

She can't.

She won't.

Because she knows that in those blue eyes—bluer than the Tenerife Sea—she'll be able to see things that will break her heart more than it already is, and she can't help but find it ironic how her broken and dysfunctional heart still beats and it beats for the _one _girl she can't have. But there's nothing she can do about it, she fell in love when she wasn't supposed to.

Hell, she fell in love before she knew it. She was so far in love with Brittany that by the time she noticed it was too late.

It was never meant to be—she sees that now.

_I'd go hungry; I'd go black and blue,_

_And I'd go crawling down the avenue._

_No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do_

_To make you feel my love._

But as always and against her will her eyes land on _her. _And if she didn't thing her heart could take it she feel it break even more at the sight. Brittany is gazing up at her with tear-filled eyes and she knows she's questioning why Santana is standing on a stage singing a love song to her and someone else.

To be honest, Santana doesn't know either—she must be some type of masochist because she can't rip her eyes away and her stomach flops as she watches Sam pull away slightly and give a small tender kiss on Brittany's forehead. But what kills her most is the soft "I love you" that is whispered into blonde hair that she's spent countless nights with her nose buried in.

_I could make you happy; make your dreams come true._

_Nothing that I wouldn't do._

_Go to the ends of the Earth for you,_

_To make you feel my love_

_To make you feel my love_

A single lone tear slides down the apple of her cheek but she quickly wipes it away as she glances down to Quinn and nods, telling her it's time.

Brittany's eyes are still trained on Santana, catching how her lip quivers and tears slide down caramel skin. She tries to pull away from Sam when she notices Santana hand over the microphone and try to make her way off the stage.

"Mr. Evans" Quinn nods formally, "Britt—Ms. Pierce can I have a word with you?"

Brittany nods forces on a smile when Sam pulls away and kisses her cheek. She follows Quinn to the lobby and just then notices the letter she's clutching. "Quinn—"

"Santana wanted me to give you this," she interjects. Brittany stares down at the crumpled letter in Quinn's hands and gulps, "Brittany I know that you're technically my boss but I'd like to think of us as friends before anything." Brittany nods and reaches out for the letter in her hands, "—and you know that San and I have been friends since we were in diapers, and I have never seen her so heartbroken in my entire life. At first, I ignored it" she says glancing up at Brittany's saddened face, "But when Santana came up to me and gave me this letter it all made sense—it's because of you."

Brittany head snaps up, "Quinn, I promise I'll explain everything later, I need to go find San—Santana and explain—"

"There's nothing to explain Britt" Quinn sighs, "Everything you need to know is in that letter"

She watches as Quinn turns and walks away leaving Brittany alone in the lobby. Brittany takes a breath and walks over to the small table in the corner of the lobby. She sits and smooth's out the crumpled envelope on her lap and plays with the ripped corner.

She rips open the letter and the more she reads the more she feels like her world is spinning and she can't breathe. Her tear-filled eyes glance over words like _resignation _and _effective immediately_ and for a minute she thinks it's all a joke but it isn't until she finds a small white paper taped to the envelope where everything comes crashing down.

_I can't do this anymore. _

She's up and bolting out of the hotel in record time as she snaps her head back and forth looking for Santana. She doesn't pay attention how cold it is until a coat is being wrapped around her body and Quinn's hands rubbing her arms in comfort. Her body shakes because her memories of the brunette flash before her eyes and for the first time since she met her she feels like things might not be okay.

_August 1__st__ 2014_

" Santana hurry the hell up" Quinn snaps slams the passenger door shut as she taps her shiny black heels waiting for Santana to finish putting on her lip gloss.

"Calm down Quinn" Santana says unbuckling her seat belt and trying to step out of the car as gracefully as possible. She stands up and palms her thighs to smooth the imaginary wrinkles on her pencil skirt. She makes sure her white button down shirt is neatly tucked it before tying her blazer. She glances over to her best friend and smirks at how impatient the blonde looks. She's dressed just like her except Quinn chose to combine her gray pencil skirt with a black button down and decided to skip out on the matching blazer. "We're like an hour early because you're decided to wake me up at the crack of fucking dawn when we live literally 10 minutes away from campus."

Santana follows her best friend as she yawns and can't help but internally curse her for not letting her grab her morning iced caramel soy latte, which is why she figures she feels cranky and hot and feels like ripping off her blazer and long sleeve shirt and walking around in her bra.

Because seriously who the hell would want to start their political campaign in August, on the hottest damn day in California.

Especially when the party ballot won't be announced for another 2 months and the presidential elections are like 2 years away.

She wouldn't be here if she didn't have to.

But she does, especially since her old professor and mentor personally called her and Quinn to join the campaign. They were fresh out of the University of Southern California and as political science majors with absolutely no experience, having the great professor Roger Caldwell call them was like a sign from the heavens, which is why they were making their way from the campus parking lot to Dornslife hall of science.

"Did you read the file that Caldwell sent us" Quinn asked turning back to glance at Santana tapping away on her cell phone. Hazel eyes roll as she combs through her short blonde hair, "I'll take that as a no"

"Don't need to know much Q" Santana swiftly as she continues to scroll through her twitter account, "All I know is that if it all works out, we could be moving to Washington DC and get to work in the White House"

She can't help but chuckle when Quinn huffs and pulls out a folder from her briefcase an flips through the pages Caldwell emailed them. "Governor of California, Samuel E. Evans born November 26, 1984 in Pasadena, California"

_"Don't Care Q"_

"Youngest elected to office and serving his second term"

_"No me importa"_

"Single—but dating dancer and animals activist Brittany S Pierce" Santana's ear pick up on this and Quinn smiles knowing that she picked up on the detail.

"Single?"

"Santana—last time I checked you're a lesbian" Quinn teased, "or is that a double standard when it comes to men with authority?"

"First of all" Santana huffs and flicks her the finger and rolls her eyes when Quinn chomps her teeth as she tries to reach for the brunettes finger. "Why in the world would Caldwell want to represent a candidate that isn't even married—that single handedly will _murder_ us with the married household votes. Everyone knows a president isn't a president without a first lady. Michelle Obama, Jackie Kennedy, Hillary fucking Clinton"

" I guess that's why Caldwell decided to hire younger people in his party this term" Quinn shrugs, " And plus times are changing—I don't think being married will affect as much as we think it will, and if it does he _is _technically dating this Pierce chick, and she's pretty damn hot"

"Is Caldwell losing it? He never sends pictures."

"No" Quinn smirks, "But I did google her" Santana scoffs at Quinn's necessity to know everything, "She's fucking hot and lets not talk about her abs"

"Watch it Fabray" Santana laughs, "You're gays showing"

"I'm not gay Santana" Quinn huffs earning a laugh from her best friend, "And making out with Rachel last year does not count." She says as she crosses her arms in annoyance, "That was a dare"

"Yeah" Santana nods in confirmation, "but as I remember specifically the dare was _give the person next to you a peck_ not _ram your tongue down her throat and wake up naked to her the next day"_

"Whatever Lopez, hurry up. I wanna make sure I get a good seat"

"You go ahead Q," Santana replies waving her hand, "I'm going to grab some coffee before I have to succumb to hours of-"

"-you're getting paid, Santana"

"Still" Santana smirks, "Doesn't mean it'll be any less torturous."

"Fucking crap" Santana mutters as she makes her way over to the bathroom. She can't believe the stupid barista spilled her latte all over her blazer.

Granted she was getting letting out the Lopez charm because the girl was kina cute but she completely turned to mush which ended up in the girl stumbling over her feet and dumping everything on her.

To say Santana was pissed was an understatement. She quickly took off her blazer but the coffee had already stained her crisp white shirt. The tomato-faced barista muttered as many apologies as humanly possible as she pulled out a black tank-top for Santana to change into and pointed over to the end of the hall where she said the private faculty bathroom was.

Santana clenched her teeth and tried her hardest not to curse out the girl because not a minute ago she was telling her she was "the prettiest little thing she'd seen on campus" and it wouldn't be fair to call her "the dumbest little thing on campus either"

Young Santana would've gone _all_ Lima heights—

But instead she turned on her heels and stomped her way over to the bathroom. She slams her hands against the door and pushes into it as hard as she can trying to release some of the anger burning though her body but it isn't she hears someone yelp and a crash against the bathroom stall that Santana is rushing in with wide worried eyes.

Her eyes snap to the figure on the floor as the person clutches her nose and whimpers.

"Fuck" Santana says as she lands on her knees and grips the woman's arm, "Shit, I'm so sorry—I—I didn't know anyone was here and I opened the door and it was an accident" Santana's rant stops short with the woman opens her eyes and stares back. Santana has never seen eyes so...blue. Her gaze slips a little, "You're bleeding"

The woman in front of her shrugs and a muffled _no biggie_ comes out as she tried to get up. Santana's hands fly to the woman's waist when the blonde in front of her stumbles a bit. "Come on" she says guiding the woman to the sink where she guides her to sit on the table next to it while she places her blazer on the chair next to it and turns back to the blonde. "My dad's a doctor and I was a pre-med major before I decided to switch over" Santana says and immediately shakes her head to stop herself from ranting when she hears the other girls muffled giggle. " What I'm trying to say is that I can check if your nose if broken and also clean that up for you" she says softly gripping the woman's hand and pulling it down to reveal a slightly bruised and bloody nose and a small smile on thin pink lips.

Santana immediately rolls the sleeves and grabs a bunch of napkins and runs them under cold water. She clears her throat and gently nods her head before softly gripping at a pale chin and tilting it towards her. She watches as long lashes flutter against pink cheeks and blue eyes focus on her.

Santana breath hitches as she stares back. She's so close that she can see the silver specks floating around in cerulean eyes—the way her eyes shine make the stars look dull in comparison. Her eyes make Santana want to just sit and stare and watch the world go by through them but her thoughts are immediately stopped when she feels the blonde wince.

She cleans it out a little more and throws the papers in the trash. She grabs at her chin again and moves it from side to side examining it. "It's not broken" she whispers, "But it looks like it's going to bruise a bit—but nothing a little make-up can't cover"

"So I'm not going to die, Doctor" the blonde responds in the softest and smoothest voice. Santana wonders if this girl is even real.

Those eyes.

And now her voice smoother than honey—

And let's not even talk about her body that Santana managed to sneak a peek to when she was guiding her to the bathroom sink.

"No" Santana responds with a smile, "But I'm pretty sure I might if you keep on staring at me like that"

"Such a charmer" the blonde teases, "Is this how you meet all ladies? Ramming a door against their face?

Santana blushes and smiles when the blonde girl tries to scrunch her nose but ends up pouting instead, "No—normally just walk up and say hi. But if you're really pretty then I might resort to using doors." She replies shrugging her shoulders.

The blonde laughs, "Well then I'm honored" she says hoping off the chair and turning to look in the mirror instantly grimacing at the at the bruising on her nose.

"Sorry again"

"It's ok" the blonde shrugs with a smile, "But it looks like you're having a bad day" Santana follows her gaze where she sees the blonde staring at her coffee stained blazer, "No wonder I was getting a craving for coffee"

Santana thanks the man upstairs that she's Hispanic because this girl has made her cheeks blush like a million times already. "Yeah you could say that" She watches as the blonde start unbuttoning her blazer and proceeds to begin to unbutton her own white shirt, "What—what are you doing?"

"Relax _stutters_" the blonde laughs, "your blazer _and _shirt is covered in coffee, I'm giving you my shirt as a thank you for cleaning me up and so you don't want around the rest of the day looking like that." The blonde hands over the white shirt and pulls on her blazer over her white tank top. She smiles at Santana one last time and walks—no glides—to the door and turns around, "I hope your day gets better." She whispers bashfully and before Santana can even react the doors closing leaving her alone in the bathroom.

"Where the hell have you been" Quinn hisses as Santana slides into the seat next to hers. Since Quinn "Goodie-two-shoes" Fabray _has _to be the model individual Santana couldn't sneak in without people noticing. She sends an apologetic smile towards Caldwell who was staring at her.

"Long story" she mumbles and begins to flip through the pages Quinn hands her.

"Now that everyone is here" Caldwell's strong voice booms in the small conference room, "I called this meeting to introduce our next project. Samuel Evans, governor of California is in the view to become the presidential candidate for the Democratic Party. As many of you know, I feel very strong towards change in our country and have decided to work with Evans and his administration to get to the white house. Evans has named me chief of the campaign so _once _we win I will become chief of staff and you all will be working closely with me which means _when _we win we will be all relocating to Washington DC."

Quinn grabs Santana's arms and turns to look at her with a twinkle in her eye and a smile that could literally rip her face in half. Santana can't help but smile because she knows it has always been Quinn's dream to work in the white house. "Now I want to make it clear that this will be hard work, and I won't hesitate to cut off the weak links because this isn't any regular campaign people—this will be history in the making!" Santana watches how the room erupts in applause and Caldwell smiles victoriously. " Mr. Evans is here and we will be introducing you shortly so sit tight and read over the documentation provided"

Santana crosses her legs but doesn't get past the first page when Caldwell is calling her and Quinn over.

"Lopez" he nods, "Fabray, you two are the only recent graduates that have made it to the team. Not only are you the people with the _least _experience-"

"Geez Caldwell, tell us how you really feel" Santana mumbles but stops when Quinn elbows her and shoots her a glare.

"-and you two are not afraid to speak your minds and risk going against the norms which is why I have a special assignment for you both." Caldwell says as he hands them both a binder, "You two will be in charge of making sure Evans looks like the best fucking candidate the world can offer. You two will follow him around, attending affairs, going to charities, petting any type of animal and kissing any child that comes his damn way. Lopez you're not afraid to do the impossible so that's what I need."

Santana smirks at Caldwell, "Consider it done sir"

Caldwell smiles and pats her on the shoulder, "Perfect, now come on I want you to meet Evans before anyone so you guys can sort out the first event he has been invited to." Santana opens the binder as they make their way to the hallway and towards the room next door. On the first page it says they have an event 2 weeks from now in Napa Valley at an individual film exposition.

"Mr. Evans I would like you to meet two of my top graduates Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez." Santana looks up just in time to see the man stand up and wipe his hands on his black slacks before reaching out and greeting them. Santana's first thought is that this man is handsome—dressed in a fitted black suit with a white shirt and blue tie. His hair is combed to the side and his beard is neatly trimmed. His hands are strong and grip at hers tightly but Santana can't get over the fact that his lips are the size of her head.

Seriously she has never seen a kisser that big.

Kinda reminds her of a guppy fish.

"Pleasure" he replies and Santana wants to gag at how he stares at Quinn's cleavage a little too long. "I look forward to working with both of you and-"

"Sorry I'm late—I had to rush over to the pharmacy across campus to get some concealer because I don't think I've ever own anything like that and then I had to run back because I thought I was a nude but it turns out I'm a pale which makes sense because I'm as white as Casper" Santana's jaw drops as she watches the person ram everything in her little purse as she continues to ramble on clearly oblivious to the extra people in the room. It isn't until Trouty clears his throat that blue eyes snap up to glance around the room and Santana watches as pale cheeks begin to pink, "Hello"

Sam smiles, "Caldwell I don't think you've met my girlfriend." Caldwell shakes his head and steps forward pushing you and Quinn with him.

"Robert Caldwell" he beams grabbing the blonde's hand. He steps to the side and motions to Quinn, "this is Quinn Fabray" and right before he's about to speak her name blue eyes lock on brown and right before he's about to speak she step forward.

Her eyes rake from black pumps to strong pale claves and slowly make their way up to blue eyes staring back at her curiously. "Santana Lopez, it's a pleasure" she says grasping the blonde's hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

Brittany smiles back and shakes her hand, "Brittany Pierce and the pleasure is all mine Ms. Lopez"

Reviews?


	2. Chapter 2

_August 14, 2014_

You sit by the bar, the one farthest from the room where you're supposed to be in, but you're sure no one—other than Quinn—will notice that you're gone so you aren't worried.

You sit by the bar wearing your finest white short dress that ends right above your knee and brings out your curves and the olive of your skin perfectly.

You know you look hot—you feel hot, and if the looks that the bartender gives you he must think you're hot too.

You sit by the bar, gently swirling your glass in your palm and bring it up to your nose closing your eyes and taking in the sweet aroma of fruits and sweetness. The glass slides down to your lips and you take a small sip, humming at the taste.

You spent the whole day walking around with Caldwell and Quinn making sure Evans made a good impression and in one day you realized that you completely hate the guy. From his stupid smile to the way he "breaks the ice" by using impressions you think Evans is a complete idiot.

But your job isn't to like the guy. Caldwell is paying you to make sure you get him elected.

You bring the glass down and motion for the waiter for a refill. He smiles a perfect smile and reaches over for the merlot. You watch him walk over to you and you already know he's been checking you out because by the look on his face you know he's walking over offering more than a refill.

You want to laugh because you're probably more into women than he is.

He twirls the bottle to show you the label and you read off '2008 Merlot' and shrug your shoulders. He smiles and grabs your glass.

"Give her the 2007" a voice says from behind you.

You know that voice.

It has been plaguing you for the past couple of days because that voice comes with the prettiest pair of blue eyes and hair so golden that it makes the sun look dull.

"The 2007 had a better season, and I think the young lady here will definitely appreciate the taste" she says and she slides right next to you and puts her elbow on the bar. Her eyes flutter to you and you just about melt. "It's one of my favorites."

The waiter glances between you two and turns over to retrieve the bottle. You're eyes watch him go and then you turn to the person standing next to you.

She's dressed in a one shoulder navy dress that clings to her body in the most delicious way. You're eyes slowly drag down her body taking in milky skin, down the sexiest of legs until they reach her beige high-heeled shoes.

She taps her foot and your eyes shoot up to catch the glint behind her blue eyes and you're cheeks burn in embarrassment.

She just caught you staring, but what she doesn't know is that you've been spending all weekend watching her.

Which makes you also think is another reason why you dislike Evans.

Evans has Brittany.

Brittany with the eyes that makes you want to drown in them.

Brittany with the perfect smile that makes you swoon, . time.

Brittany with the golden locks that you wish you could run your hands through.

Brittany, the epitome of sexiness that someone would have to be blind not to want to stare at.

You clear your throat and silently pray your voice doesn't waiver. "Ms. Pierce" you say as you turn your head to acknowledge the waiter that has come back with the recommended bottle. He grabs your glass and tilts the bottle and begins to pour. You watch him fill the glass up and ends with tilting the neck of the bottle to avoid droplets and hands you back the glass. You smile in gratitude and take a small sip.

She's right, you like this one better, but you refuse to tell her that.

"Shouldn't you be inside mingling with your boyfriend?"

She smiles at you and reaches over to take your glass, "I should" she says right before she brings the glass to her lips and hums. She turns to you, "You should too."

"He's not my boyfriend"

"No he's not; Sam wouldn't be able to handle you."

She smirks when she says it and you know she's flirting with you.

You also know she wouldn't be this straightforward if she wasn't drinking.

You take the glass from her, "What's that's supposed to mean?" you ask. You want to act nonchalant so you bring the glass to your mouth trying to look as sexy as possible because cerulean eyes are on you watching your every mood.

You lick your lips.

"Because you're not like other girls" her eyes focused on your lips. "You need someone who would focus on nothing but you, making sure you have everything, _feel _everything you could ever want, and I think—no I _know _that Sam wouldn't be able to handle you"

You want to ask if _she_ would be able to handle you, but the way her eyes light up and her smirk transforms to a small smile you know the answer without having to ask. And you hate how her smile makes everything inside you flutter, because before you met her your insides never felt like this.

Santana Lopez never swooned.

And you feel pathetic because you've only known this girl for barely two weeks and probably spoken a handful of times but you can't help but be drawn to her. You want her attention, you want her eyes on you and every time blue eyes are on you, you feel like the luckiest woman on the planet.

"Do you want to go sit in a booth in the back?" your eyes widen at the suggestion and by the look she gives your cheeks begin to darken, "I mean just in case if Quinn or Caldwell come looking for me"

She doesn't answer you but instead slides her hand towards the wine glass where yours is resting and intertwines her fingers with yours.

You're breath hitches as she pulls you up and guides you over to the farthest table in the bar, secluded from everyone. Her hand leaves yours to pull you a chair for you and she sends you a smile that makes you forget your own name. Her eyes are on you as you slowly take a seat and once you're settled she walks away telling you she'll be right back.

You watch as she walks back over to the bar, picks up your glass and whispers something to the waiter. She stands there tapping her fingers on the table while the waiter walks down to the other side of the bar to pick up a bottle and another glass the then motions for something outside and you watch as she listens intently and nods every once in a while before smiling and making her way towards you.

"Do you want to go with me somewhere?" she asks you once she reaches your table. She's holding the 2007 merlot and stares at you intently. Her smile grows when you nod and begin to stand up, she shifts a little to give you space; she turns and walks—no glides—towards the exit.

She walks a couple of steps ahead of you but turns her head every once in a while making sure your behind her, she blushes every time her eyes meet yours and you can't help but find it adorable.

You don't know how far you walk because all you can focus on her. Your eyes are fixed on memorizing how her calf muscles flex with every step she takes, how her hips sway as she walks and especially how her eyes sparkle every time they land on you.

She leads you to an outside deck that sits secluded in the vineyards and walks towards the middle of the deck where a grey couch sits in front of a glass circular table where a fire blazes in the center. The sun set a couple of hours ago so the fire and the small lights littered around the deck provide a comfortable glow.

You realize you're just standing there and it isn't until Brittany smiles at pats the seat next to her that you kick yourself into gear and begin to walk towards her.

"I figured Caldwell would never find you out here" she says as she fills your glass. "It's kind of like my secret spot. I found it the first day we got here and have been spending hours here, last night I was here all night"

"Evans doesn't wonder where you go?"

She shakes her head and hands you your glass. You bring the glass to your lips and watch as she fills her glass, "Sam doesn't wonder a lot of things about me. He's too busy with the campaign and making sure he gets enough hours of sleep, and I don't think he knows that I haven't been spending the night in the hotel room." you stare at her curiously and she must notice your confusion, "Sam and I don't sleep in the same room."

"I find that hard to believe" you say and place the wine glass back on the table, "I wouldn't want to be away from my girlfriend if I didn't have to"

She sits there watching the fire, the glow of the flames making her look angelic. You know that your comment has shifted something in her because she doesn't say much for a couple of minutes and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, racking your brain for something to say but Brittany takes a breath and glides her finger around the top of her glass.

"Our one year anniversary was last week and he didn't even remember" she shakes her head softly, " We've been best friends for longer than I can't remember and everyone thought we belonged together and I remember I would think it was the funniest thing because Sam was like a brother to me. I don't even know when that changed, one day I just saw him differently and he did too." She smiles at the memory, "He was the best boyfriend too, even though he was the governor he always managed to remember me and always came to my recitals and cheered the loudest when I was on stage. I could feel he loved me." Her eyes glance over to you and the sparkle has been replaced by something else, sadness you assume. "He's not the same person he was, he doesn't remember things, and he doesn't show up to my recitals or even bothers to do anything romantic, but he's my best friend and he needs me now — this is his dream."

"You don't deserve this" you whisper and her eyes water up slightly as she brings the glass up to her lips and chugs the contents.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I don't," you don't know if it's the setting or the wine coursing through your system, or maybe it's the way she looks at you but you shift your hand and gently place it on her cheek, your thumb catching a tear that has managed to fall. "But I know that someone who is willing to stick around to help someone else deserve a lot more in my book." Your thumb continues to stroke through her cheek and blue eyes flutter shut, "I don't know you, but I can feel that you deserve someone who will remember every single detail, remember the first time they held your hand," you say as your other hand intertwines with yours, "Someone to remember how soft your skin is" you say caressing her cheek, "someone to remember the smallest things" you don't realize that your body begins to lean towards her because her eyes are open and are staring right at you. You feel like you're on autopilot and it isn't until her hand, slides to the back of your neck and her breath hits your lips that you realize you're so close, "Someone to remember everything" you whisper before leaning in completely.


End file.
